Posts from the ‘Letters to my son’ Category

There will be times in your life when you feel lost. When you look around and don’t recognize where you are. When you question the choices you’ve made and find yourself at a loss for which direction to go. I’m not going to lie, it’s a horrible feeling but, one I believe all those searching for true meaning in life find themselves facing at some point. Let’s be clear, I’m not talking about a crossroads or one of those moments where you need to make a leap of faith. I’m taking about a no man’s land of fog and oblivion. A place of near debilitating uncertainty where your path is nowhere to be seen and you’re dominated by fear and confusion. It’s an ugly time and I know exactly how it feels because I’m there right now. I may not have the answers to fix it but, I can tell tell you no matter how painful it is, it will eventually pass.

I know because I’ve been here before.

Every six years or so I seem to find myself in a bit of a “what am I doing?” quandary. When I was younger it was infinitely less frightening as there was always a higher power I could lean on to get through…namely, my parents. No matter how despondent I felt, how scared or unsure I might have been, your grandparents were always there to pick me up. To love me while I struggled to find my place. My loss of direction and overall sense of confusion were always buffered by their protection.

As I aged, I came to realize – painfully, I might add – that this was no longer the case. Increased awareness and autonomy allows you to see your parents for the fallible, human people they truly are and, even with the best intentions, it’s impossible and honestly, unhelpful for your parents to protect you from everything. Your father and I want your life to be truly wonderful but your decisions are ultimately yours alone and, as much as we hope to help, it’s your path to follow not ours to dictate. If you’re true to yourself, you will find that some days – weeks, months or even years – will be truly difficult as you search for a life that means something to you.

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How I feel now is how I felt after graduate school when I found myself in a job that wasn’t my calling. I’d ignored my dreams in favor of a life with less struggle and, ironically, was now struggling with the consequences of that choice. I’d redirected my path to conform to someone else’s standards and was, not surprisingly, miserable with the results. After crying every day for three months I came to the conclusion I must be clinically depressed. An acquaintance who had recently been committed seemed to be doing really well at a Toronto clinic so I called to see if they would take someone like me. They wouldn’t. So, instead, I partied, complained and worked out too much. I made strange decisions and found pleasure in very few of them. Ultimately, it was a movie that changed my life. Sitting alone in the dark on a hot, summer afternoon I realized I was unhappy because I was ignoring who I was and what I really wanted to do. It didn’t matter how “cool” my job was if it wasn’t the job for me and it didn’t matter how “amazing” my life seemed if I wasn’t happy living it. With the clear realization I was never going to be happy unless I wrote my own story and followed my own dreams, the fog lifted revealing the path I would follow without hesitation. Four months later I was living in New York, a student at an amazing conservatory and fully committed to my lifelong dream of being an actress.

It wasn’t until that dream began to falter that the fog rolled in again.

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Living in LA, my career stalled, my plans adrift, my bank account empty and my face far older than was required for my profession I once again found myself crying every day. My shame compounded this time by the fact I now had a witness to my unravelling, your father. Things clearly weren’t working out. All the efforts and dreams and hopes I’d poured into my career were falling short. It didn’t matter how hard I worked or how good I might be, the fact was, it wasn’t happening. I just didn’t know what to do with that information. The reality was I’d become an incredibly overeducated, full time bartender who could barely look herself in the mirror for all the disappointment and self loathing. Who was I if I wasn’t who I thought I was going to be? Where was I going? To what purpose? I focused on photography because it made money but it didn’t reveal my path. I hid in the planning of my wedding, behind the success of my husband and in the excitement of my pregnancy but, I remained without direction. For a long time I tried to convince myself I could find happiness and fulfillment in other’s success. I wanted to believe I could be satisfied just raising you and playing a supporting role to your father’s dream but, when his dream started to waver and I allowed myself to finally admit my love of being a mother wasn’t extinguishing my own ambition, I had to face what I’d put aside and acknowledge how off track I truly was.

It was a painful time but, there’s a lesson in pain if you’re willing to look for it. Something to learn from unhappiness so you never have to deal with the same distress again.

Getting sick was the best and worst thing that could have ever happened to me. In the blink of an eye I was reminded, without a shadow of a doubt, who I was, what I wanted and what I cared about most. I recognized what was important and immediately stopped feeling sorry for myself because I wasn’t who I wanted to be. I realized, should I be lucky enough to live longer than expected, I was damn well going to live a life that mattered. I knew I wasn’t going down without a fight and discovered the best way to express that sentiment was through writing. Suddenly, there was my path again. I wasn’t just a sick person, a wife or a mother. I was me and I still had something to say.

The fact that six years later I’m still alive but once again lost is pretty classic. I have a blog that doesn’t make money, a book that’s yet to be published, art pieces I can’t afford to make and a political itch I’m unsure how to scratch. I’m also fully ensconced with your father as he goes through the exact same thing. It’s an uncomfortable time for us. One full of uncertainty and, in my case, quite often despair. I’m questioning everything: my talent, my direction, my mothering, my marriage, my history, my path and every time I come up wanting.

My friend Betsy says you “have to ride the horse in the direction it’s going” and thoughI don’t currently know which way that is, I rest in the knowledge that if I can just hang on, keep working, keep believing, keep listening I will eventually learn the lesson the universe is trying to teach me and all will become clear. I’d LOVE IT to just be easy but, history has shown me, it never is. Despite the draw, the option to sit down and give up is not one I’m interested in. I know the fog will only lift if I continue to move forward, if I don’t make decisions based on fear and if I stay true to myself and the life I want.

Maybe we’re all phoenixes and, in order to create the ash to rise from, we must allow ourselves to burn. I’m in the fire right now but I know something new and better is coming. I just need to hang on until it does.

Even if it takes longer than you want, if you listen to your voice the path will always reveal itself. Pain and uncertainty are simply a necessary part of growth and rebirth.

Like many people, I’ve spent a fair amount of my life dealing with jealousy. At ten I was absolutely dying for a white and green rugby shirt from Benetton but Granny & Granddad, not down with me being a walking billboard, refused to buy me one so I was forced to stew in my desire until that fad had passed. In the seventh grade it seemed as if all of my friends had Roots’ desert boots so I became desperate for a pair. When Christmas came and I unwrapped the box, there were desert boots alright but, they weren’t Roots. Granddad had done done “all the research” and these were “the best ones on the market”. I may have worn them but it wasn’t the same thing as liking them. In the early days you want to be just like your friends, different wasn’t better it was just different. I’m flashing back to that feeling right now with you and your friends. You’re at a stage where you’re really into Pokemon. I didn’t buy into the Skylander craze. I didn’t get down with the Rainbow Loom shenanigans but, you’re older now, know what you want and can’t participate unless you have it. I’m not sure it’s right for me to leave you out of this world just because I know “this too shall pass”. I think it’s important you not always get what you want but, I can’t discredit the comfort felt by fitting in. You’ve struggled recently with certain kids because you’re an individual and don’t just fall in. I wouldn’t change that personality for the world but I also don’t want you to be a complete outsider and if I can alleviate a tiny bit of that discomfort simply by spending some quality time on Craigslist or eBay I think it’s worth it. The way I see it, this is your version of the rugby shirt, and darn it, I’m going to get those cards for you.

mommyish.com

Not that the feeling won’t happen again. High School is ripe with jealousy. You’ll probably covet people’s cars or vacations. Personally, I wanted a boyfriend and was resentful of the girls who seemed to find one so easily. I wanted clear skin and long, tanned legs. I envied the attention the prettiest seemed to receive from everyone and I wished I had a house in the same neighborhood as the majority of my friends. The summer I turned sixteen my friend went on days off from camp and left most of her perfect wardrobe behind. For the next two days I wore all of her stuff. It was terribly bad behavior but she always looked so cool and I was dying to know what that felt like. Years later when I came clean she laughed at my ridiculousness but I still remember how amazing it felt to slip into that “skin” for a couple of days.

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In my early twenties I started dating my friend’s ex-boyfriend in a direct violation of the “girl code”. Yes, there was a part of me that thought it was the real deal and allowed myself to believe the relationship was my shot at true love, but there was another part of me that just felt validated by his interest. He’d dated my most perfect friend. The most beautiful and talented and smart and now, now he wanted me. I’d lived in the shadow of my friends for over a decade and his choosing me made me feel worthwhile, as if my existence was somehow justified by hitting the benchmark he’d set with her. I still wasn’t confident enough to realize your self worth shouldn’t be looked for in the eyes of another.

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In New York my jealousy was more focused on people’s talent than anything else and, in LA, I found I wasn’t envious of talent so much as opportunity. I felt like I was floundering, apologizing for my age and lack of camera experience, while others were getting their shot at the big leagues. I was even jealous of people’s ability to audition, a skill I’d never quite mastered. Auditioning for theatre? Never a problem. Auditioning for camera? Total suckage. I struggled hard with it and, the more I worried, the worse I was. A casting director once ate through my entire audition and I cried for five hours after.

Even as an adult with full knowledge of my wonderful life – great husband, terrific kid, all the blessings that have kept me around – I still have moments where I feel slightly green. I wish we had more success, more financial security. I can pick up magazines now and my peers are in them. They’re buying second homes and designer clothes. Their work is credited on my TV or they’re lounging in their beautiful kitchens in House & Home. I’m happy for them but there’s also a part of me that feels sick in a “I’m failing to keep up with the Jones” kind of way.

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The thing is, you never know what’s really going on with anybody else. From the outside you might think my life was perfect. You wouldn’t know I was sick or that we struggled. You wouldn’t know I can’t have more children or hold down a normal job because of my health. Someone could be completely jealous of me and yet not have a clue what’s really up.

I remember being floored when a friend told me she was going into AA. I had no clue there was any kind of problem. She was one of those people who just appeared to have it all. Her life seemed ideal and easy yet, as it turned out, it was anything but. Every day was a struggle for her and her burdens and pain were only exacerbated by the fact that everything seemed so perfect from the outside, like “What could she possibly have to complain about?”

Yes, I would love an easier life. I wish we had less worry. I want to be able to buy a home I love and furnish it. I’d like to pay bills without strain and freely accept friend’s invitations to parties and trips without any sort of anxiety. That being said however, I realize no matter how many things I still want, no matter what I secretly covet, I already have everything I need. I’ve been blessed with an amazing life and it’s important I attempt, even amidst the craziness of LA, to keep that in perspective. The only thing I should truly be jealous of is people’s health. I was dealt a bad hand in that department and I think a little envy is justifiable. The rest of it…just window dressing.

I’ve learned that jealousy, no matter how understandable, just holds you back. You can’t run your best race if you’re busy looking at others racers. You can’t better your life if you spend too much time as a spectator to someone else’s. What’s that expression? The race is long but, in the end, it’s only with yourself?

Comparison is only good if you’re looking for the best deal on shoes.

That being said, I’m still getting you those darn Pokemon cards. What can I say? I’ve got a soft spot for that Pickachu.

You are a big kid. A powerful kid. A 6-year-old who can knock me right over. A boy who gives his Dad a run for his money. You are strong and nimble and able to use your body to get what you want…but you don’t. Instead you’re someone who uses his words, his powers of persuasion, his intellect to seek what you need. You’re the kid who asks if someone is ok and helps people up when they’ve fallen. The one who felt he should make a “moat” with his arms around the smallest girl in your class because “she’s so little mommy, people are going to knock her down.” I’ve always felt incredibly grateful for your temperament. It’s kind and thoughtful when it could be aggressive and wild. You’ve shown no violent tendencies or instinct towards cruelty. You’re empathetic and sweet and have been known to burst into tears when you feel something is unfair to you or someone else. You might give me a run for my money, but overall you are a darling boy who’s the epitome of a “lover not a fighter”. My problem lies in the fact that you’re growing up in this increasingly hoochie, shake your ass, women as objects/vessels, let me please you, sex society. You’re coming of age in a time when women are getting killed for refusing to date a boy or gang raped by friends at parties or shot en mass by teenage misogynists on a rampage. A girl was recently stabbed to death in her high school hallway for refusing to go to prom and the most recent statistics show a woman is sexually assaulted in America every 2 minutes.

This is a real ad for a high end car and though it’s cheeky (in more ways than one), it’s difficult not to get the wrong impression from it.

How do I properly raise you in a culture that uses sex as currency and women as objects. A country with high profile rape cases involving high school and college students that are so grotesque, so abusive of power but with communities that rally around the perpetrators because they’re sports stars or popular kids? How do I properly guide you through a world of sexting and snap chatting? Or an internet with teen rape clubs like Roast Busters who publicly boasted their behavior for two years before anybody did anything? On her popular and informative YouTube show “Sex +” Laci Green talks about the culture of “toxic masculinity”. How we, as a society, have created an environment where men feel entitled to women, friends, sex and when that entitlement is met with opposition some of them become so angry they lash out violently.***** Green notes that 70 of the last 71 mass murders were committed by men, mostly white men, who felt in some way alienated from the culture of powerful, cool, sexual masculinity that permeated their lives. There are entire websites (like collegeiscool.com) devoted to young people degrading themselves on camera to become famous, rich or popular. How do I ensure you make the right decisions in the wake of so many bad ones? The age old adage “if all your friends jumped off a cliff…” seems weak when we’re talking these kind of extremes.

Kids need to understand the reality of the situation. We can’t just inform our girls about how to protect themselves we have to teach our boys how to rise above it. I want you to be far above the lowest common denominator. To be aware and confident enough to speak up and say enough to the misogyny, the derogatory jokes, the “she was asking for it” justifications.

Even girls who make terrible decisions don’t “deserve” to be victims. coffeeandcrosswords.com

You have to distance yourself from the base behavior of your brethren. You must fight against it. Protect, when it’s easier to dismiss. Standing idly by does not make you innocent. Complacency is akin to guilt. Zaron Burnett III recently wrote an essay that went viral entitled The Gentlemen’s Guide to Rape Culture. Rape Culture being defined by Marshall University’s Women’s Center as an environment in which rape is prevalent and in which sexual violence against women is normalized and excused in the media and popular culture. It is perpetuated through the use of misogynistic language, the objectification of women’s bodies, and the glamorization of sexual violence, thereby creating a society that disregards women’s rights and safety. In the essay Burnett says, like it or not, as a man you are a part of the rape culture and it is your responsibility to correctly navigate your way through it.

Is gang rape supposed to be sexy in this Australian Calvin Klein ad?

Burnett points out, as Rutger’s college students also recently did with their “Rape Poem to End all Rape Poems”, that we’ve created a culture “in which women must consider where they are going, what time of day it is, the day of the week, what she’ll be wearing and if she’ll be left alone.” That we’ve allowed our society to get to a point where women are not safe to walk by themselves, leave their drinks unattended or, heaven forbid, pass out at a party without putting themselves in imminent danger. Yes, women should be responsible for their actions (see the above picture – Good Lord girls!), but something has gone terribly wrong if our society’s default is to pass judgement on the victim not the perpetrator. There is a serious problem if seemingly innocuous choices (choices that men like you take for granted, like clothes and independence) become the source for imposing fault or blame. It’s not a new phenomenon to blame the victim, it’s just become completely out of control. Women shouldn’t be afraid of being killed if they break up with a boyfriend, or attacked if they wear a crop top, or raped in the middle of high school.

There shouldn’t be a need for glassware from companies like designboom to indicate whether your drink has been drugged or not.

My message to you, my boy, is that none of this is right. As you move forward in your future you must take control and responsibility for your behavior and decisions. You are accountable for both your actions and the actions you fail to take. You were raised to be a hero, not a villain. As Burnett says,“You may think it’s unfair that men have to counteract and adjust themselves for the ill behavior of other men and you are right. It is unfair. But if issues of fairness bother you, get mad at the men who make you appear questionable. Because when it comes to assessing a man, whatever one is capable of, a woman must presume you are also capable of. Unfortunately, all men must be judged by the worst example. If you think this sort of stereotyping is bulls*^#, think about how you treat a snake you come across in the wild. You treat it like a snake. That’s not stereotyping. That’s acknowledging an animal for what it’s capable of doing and the harm it can inflict.” *

Freud wrote extensively about the herd or mob mentality. The idea that an individual can basically turn off their conscious mind in favor of the group psychology that is often more base and violent. There’s a feeling of anonymity in a group. People felt protected, free to tap into their baser instincts while simultaneously accepting less responsibility for those actions. People often try to use this theory to explain why they did something they clearly knew to be wrong. You hear a lot of, “I was just doing what my friends were doing” or “I got caught up in the situation.” This is not a legitimate excuse. It’s a cop-out defense of the weak minded. You know right from wrong. You are in control of what you do and no matter what “everyone” chooses, you stick to YOUR morals.

You’re bombard by pictures like this every day. It’s bad for women and it’s bad for your opinion of what women are here for.

Whether I’m here or not, I expect you to be a good man who makes honorable decisions. Someone who behaves with forethought and respect. I also charge you to look out for those who are weaker. To speak for those who don’t have a voice. To be brave enough to stand up and take charge of a situation before things become chaotic. I’m not advocating violence to prevent violence. I’m advocating leadership that inspires nobility. Even if all you do is walk straight to the police.

Burnett challenges the good men of the male species to return to the world of the gentleman. To avoid using language that objectifies or degrades women. To think critically about the media’s messages about women, men, relationships, and violence.** To be respectful of others’ physical space even in a casual situation and to help women feel at ease in your presence. It’s your job to communicate with your sexual partners and not, even in a relationship, simply assume consent.

Burnett says:

A real cover from Vogue Homme.

“No one is suggesting violence. In fact, that’s what we’re looking to avoid. But sometimes, a man needs to confront another man or a group of men in a situation. When I’m out in public and I see a man hassling a woman, I stop for a moment. I make sure the woman sees me. I want her to know I’m fully aware of what’s happening. I wait for a moment for a clear indication from her of whether she needs help. Sometimes, the couple will continue right on fighting like I’m just a hickory tree. Other times, the woman will make it clear she’d like backup and I approach the situation. I’ve never had to get violent. Usually, my presence alone makes the guy leave if he’s a stranger, or explain himself if they’re familiar. It changes the dynamic. That’s why I always stop when I see a woman getting hassled in public. For any reason. I make sure any woman, in what could become a violent situation, one I may or may not be correctly assessing, feels that she has the opportunity to signal to me if she needs assistance. If you see a situation spiraling out of control, and especially if someone is crying for help or being attacked, you should confront the situation. You don’t need to “break it up.” But engage, get involved, take down pertinent information, alert authorities, call the police. Do something.” ***

The world is a broken baby. When things like #YesAllWomen become necessary, the time has come to insist on change and, I believe, real change starts at home.

xo Mom

P.S. I would strongly advise clicking on all the links in this letter. They are incredibly telling of how bad things really have become.

I’m one of those people who really loved High School. Yes, it’s a period of your life rife with insecurity but, for the most part, I thought it was marvelous. I often wonder when I hear people talk about High School as if it was “time served” what made my experience so different. How, even with the ups and downs that inevitably come with adolescence, I really was incredibly happy. Was it just dumb luck? Was I supremely clever? I don’t think so. I know a number of other people (your Dad included) who clearly found a happy route through a time otherwise fraught with strife, so at this the milestone of my 20th High School Reunion (of which I just attended!) I thought I’d attempt to crystalize my own personal “Secret to High School Success”. Take what you will out of it, but understand that no point in your life has to be miserable. Uncomfortable and awkward maybe, but not unhappy. You deserve happiness. So, here are some ways to go about achieving it from ages 14 through 18 (maybe even beyond).

Ninth grade.

25 years later.

1. FIND YOURSELF A FRIEND. I realize this is easier said than done but all you need is one person who really “gets” you for the world to become infinitely better. I was lucky enough to have a lot of friends in High School but even more blessed to have one special friend who was truly on my page. A person who shared my interests and insecurities and had a strikingly similar outlook on life. There was power and security in being part of a team. We could be keeners without irony joining things like choir and theatre and being enthusiastic without fear of ridicule. We were able to commiserate about the acne only the two of us seemed to have, go to parties as a unit and spend hours on the phone debriefing our emotional turmoils. Despite the fact I was always single and she almost always had a boyfriend, we had each other’s backs. When we were both elected student leaders – a job neither of us were ashamed to admit we wanted – we were able to do that together too. Even now, all these years later, despite time and fall outs and distance, she’s still my person. We don’t live in the same city, we don’t often talk on the phone or email but when we’re together it’s as if no time has passed. Twenty-five years later and she’s still the the one helping me twist our friend’s arms to go out or get involved. Still the two of us taking the chance on something that might be fun. They took a group shot of all the girls from my year who came to the Reunion and it made me laugh because after the requisite smiling shot the photographer asked us to “be crazy” and of the four people who even acknowledged that request…two of them were us. I know letting her into my life not only made High School bearable, it made it a joy.

A really nice group of ladies stuck with the often awkward request to “do something crazy.”

2. DO THE THINGS YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO DO. If you like chess, join the club. If you want to act, audition for the play. Don’t get caught up in what’s cool or not cool. It’s the doing of the things you enjoy that make your time somewhere enjoyable. If you like it, do it. Plus, you’re more likely to meet the person above if you do. “Birds of a feather…” as Granny says.

3. BE NICE. Not everyone is going to like you, just don’t give them an excuse not to. There are lots of reasons people don’t take to you in High School – jealousy, supposed slights, gossip, assumptions – try not to add to the list. I’ll always remember my last year of High School when I became friends with a girl I had never hung out with before. At one point, in the early stages of our friendship, she said “I can’t believe you’re so nice. I always thought you’d be such a bitch.” I asked why she thought that and she said, “I guess because you’re popular and hang out with who you do. I just assumed it.” It was a eye opener. She thought she knew me but she didn’t and that kind of thing happens all the time. I like to think I never gave anyone a reason to hate me. Even the one person I couldn’t find any common ground with in High School I was genuinely happy to see at the reunion. Despite all our teenage differences, 20 years later, without our preconceived notions getting in the way, our mutual distaste has naturally softened into mutual respect. We might not have liked each other at 18 but we never gave each other any reason to retain that dislike at 38.

Disco Semi? Why not go as the disco ball? It’s fun to go all in. Thanks to my date Brian for doing it with me!! He thought I was punking him!

4. BE ENTHUSIASTIC. Life is amazing and the more you put into it, the more you’ll get out. The same goes for High School. Invest as much as you can for as long as you have. What you put in will be reflected back. Commitment to something gives you purpose. Purpose gives you drive. Drive keeps you motivated and motivation takes you places.

5. WORK HARD. This might sound like a dismissible maternal cliche, but it’s not. In many ways it’s the same as above point just painted with a scholastic brush. In High School I knew I wanted to attend a specific University and I kept that in mind the whole time I was there. I picked classes I was interested in and focused on getting the best grades I could. I worked my a*# off and it paid off. I chose, as I often say to you, to do the MOST I could rather than the LEAST. I had no interest in simply skating by. If you’re going to do something, you may as well do it well. Frankly that’s an ethic that will serve you well beyond the 12th grade.

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As a side note: there’s also a lot less time to get into trouble and fart around making bad decisions when you’re up to your eyeballs in school work and extra curricular and it’s a lot more fun to be on the Dean’s list than the s*^# list. There’s a security in knowing you’ve done your best because, whatever happens, you know the result wasn’t because you could have worked harder. Ask a lot of yourself and deliver. It’s a productive way to go through life.

6. RETAIN PERSPECTIVE. Try and remember there is an entire world outside of High School. Your dramas and trials and tribulations, though seemingly epic, are simply a blip in the story of your life. If you aren’t happy, if you don’t fit in, if you feel weird or different or insecure know that 1. You aren’t alone. Even the coolest of the cool are going through their own s*^# and, 2. It’s going to be over soon. Four years is nothing. You have the rest of your life to find your place or your people, to discover who you are or reinvent yourself. I can honestly say everyone from my year who came to the reunion is an incredibly nice person worthy of respect. We might not have all run in the same circles at 16 but things change. You change. They change. The time between the 9th and 12th grade is negligible on the grand scale. I understand it feels monumental while you’re in it, but it’s just four years at the beginning of a life. A foreshadowing of your adulthood. Take it for what it is, a foundation. A place to learn how to make friends, develop a work ethic and discover who you are or might be interested in being later. It’s a training ground for life but it isn’t your life. It’ll be over in the blink of an eye so you may as well enjoy it while you’re there.

There’s a whole world ahead of you. In my case I wouldn’t always have those eyebrows, my face would thin out, my confidence would waiver then come back stronger. I thought I knew who I was but I was only just beginning to understand.

Looking around at the girls at my reunion I was fascinated with the passage of time and the boundaries and walls erected in youth that are able to come down when you’re older. In many ways I was also struck with the positive nature of, the much maligned, social media. None of us showed up at that reunion completely ignorant of the other’s past twenty years. Almost all of us have reconnected in some way on-line. We are aware of each other. What jobs people have. If they have families or spouses. We’re familiar with life events and shared challenges. This point was brought home to me clearly when, during the tour of the school, one of my old classmates (not a close friend mind you) took my arm after a particularly difficult set of stairs. She knew I was sick. She could see I was struggling. She simply put her hand under my arm and helped me navigate the rest of the tour. I was so grateful. Honored and touched to be known in such an intimate way and cared for without question by someone who had no vested interest in me or my feelings.

We don’t know who we’re going to be after High School. What fate will become us as we press forward with our lives. We are unaware of the cards that will be dealt but, even with that uncertainty, we should make the best of the time we have while we’re there. Be our best selves despite the fact that self will probably change. Do the most with what we have until we have more. If High School is a training ground for life, you may as well train as if you’re going for gold….because you are, aren’t you?

I love you baby.

I hope you have the best time in High School but I hope it’s not the best time of your life.

First of all let me just say I hope you can call me. That I’m still here for you to talk to and we have the kind of relationship where you respect and trust my opinions. As I’ve said a million times, my dream is that these letters are simply a jumping off point to a future conversation we can have in person. But, since we’re unable to forsee what’s ahead, I wanted to jot down a few ideas just in case.

Now, it may feel frivilous or irrelevant to talk about clothes and style but, baring world destruction, I’m here to tell you it’s not. How you visually present yourself to the world is the first thing anyone sees, ergo the first thing you’ll be judged on. It’s not fair, it’s probably not right, but it’s true. What’s inside may be what counts, but it’s the packaging that often makes all the difference. I want people to know and love you as I do but, in life, before you even have the chance to even open your mouth people will have already made assumptions about you with their eyes. It’s my goal to see you’re not starting at a disadvatage.

With this in mind, I’ve decided to do a series of aesthetic run downs. It’s strictly surface. I touched on it before when I spoke on the deeper aspects of “being a man” but this time we’re staying firmly in the shallow end of the issue pool. It’s not life or death. It’s denim or kakhis.

Dare to dream of a closet like this one from fedoras.com. Good grief…and sigh.

As you age you’ll develop and hone your own style (and there’ll probably be many a girlfriend who wants to dress you) but I feel it’s my job as your mother to let you know where to start. I don’t want you to ever feel insecure because you’re unsure of what to wear and, as far as I’m concerned, there are basics you should consider embracing no matter what your future “look” or gal pal might encourage. I expect you’ll tweak this advice to make it your own but I never want to hear about you showing up at a wedding in cargo pants or at a job interview in a ball cap.

We can do better than that.

I begin this series with a list of items I hope will find their way into your wardrobe by your mid-20’s (if not earlier). You’ll discover the best ones over time and certain trends will fill in your closet, but for now, here is my list of what I believe a grown man should own.*

Chris PIne working the right fitting t-shirt, jeans and properly sized casual belt buckle. I also love a good pair of glasses. justjared.com

At least 3 PAIRS OF GOOD JEANS. Not baggy and preferably not skin tight but well fitted, straight leg, boot cut or skinny. Your jean style will depend on a combination of how your body fills out and the style of the day, but definitley invest in good denim. These days jeans can take you almost anywhere. Washes should include: a casual worn in blue, dark “dress” blue, and black. Grey and sand are also terrifc alternatives.

A CASUAL BLACK AND BROWN BELT that are your size. No flapping overhang or just making it to the first hole. Buy a belt that fits. Also make sure the buckle size balances your body type. Not too big or too small.

A DRESSY BLACK AND BROWN BELT in good shape (good quality leather, no fraying) that’s not too shiny and has a classic buckle. Europeans, and people who dress like Europeans, can get away with a covered buckle but they don’t often work on the classic American male. I’m happy to take that back if you show me the belt that proves me wrong, but for now let’s just stick with the basics.

At least 6 COOL T-SHIRTS. Well fitted. Good cotton. No logos. Personally, I like a v-neck but you might be a crew neck guy and that’s great. Beware the super deep V. It’s made for a very specific kind of man, particularly one without body hair and, looking at your Dad (and the fact that your legs are hairy as a six year old), you might want to steer clear of anything that shows a pizza size chunk of chest. The most important thing is fit and quality. You need something that breathes and looks good on you. A cotton shirt should skim your body without being too tight. It should fit your shoulders well and hit your arms at just the right location to accentuate their shape without clinging to their size. This is usually between the upper half and quarter of your bicept. Avoid cap sleeves or sleeves that go almost to the elbow. It looks wrong. Personally, I’d go with 2-3 white T’s (pitching and replacing them when they start to look tired or get yellow pits), at least one blue, one navy, one black, and one grey – light and/or dark.

Never!!! Never. Never. Never.NoiseBot.com

If you want to rock a concert T or a logo T knock yourself out, just make sure you still own a number of plain ones. People should see you, not read you. And never, ever wear a gross or rude T-shirt. It’s not funny, it’s lame, and wearing it makes you lame. Trust me on this and just don’t. Over the years you’ll find the styles and brands that fit you best and once you do, stick with them. Don’t try and reinvent the wheel. Knowing what looks good on you makes shopping easy. Rule of thumb: If more than one person compliments you on a shirt, that’s a brand you might want to go back to.

This might be a good time to mention that clothes look best on bodies that are in shape. Making the gym – or sports – a priority in your life is a great way to stay healthy AND ensure you look good in your wardrobe.

A HENLEY. Which is basically a long sleeve cotton shirt with 2 or 3 buttons at the neck. It’s a nice, casual look – waffle or plain – that says “I’m chill but still willing to make an effort.” And unless they’re worn to perfection or you (or someone else) likes to wear them to bed, you can officially let go of any High School sweatshirts or team shirt after the age of 23.**

Slim sweaters don’t have to feel conservative. They can look very cool.myintimateaffairwithfashion.com

A HOODIE. Seems obvious, probably doesn’t work after 50, but a great dark grey or navy hoodie can take you so many places. Casual places for sure, but still, that one piece of clothing will definitely earn it’s keep.

A NICE SWEATER. Honestly, living in California, you don’t need a ton of sweaters. A light weight, well fitted (see T-shirt) sweater can look amazing on a man. If I had my drothers I’d say, one dark grey, one black and one color – maybe blue, camel or cream. Just start with one and move forward from there. Again, personally, I like a v-neck because it looks good with a shirt underneath, but your father has some solid crew neck ones that look fantastic despite the fact I couldn’t tell you the last time he wore one.

This is an attractive man but I’m still not sure he’s pulling off this turtleneck. ralphlauren.com

A BIG, CHUNKY SWEATER. This is not essential but it’s great for trips to the moutains or say…Canada. Something wool and masculine in a cream, hunter green or dark grey. Crew neck is the standanrd here and please, stay away from turtlenecks. First, because you’ll probably sweat your balls off, and second, because unless you’re in a Michael Kors or Ralph Lauren ad, it is an incredibly difficult look to pull off without looking like an un-ironic version of 1970’s apres ski.

At least 5 WELL FITTED BUTTON DOWN SHIRTS (Read: not blousy or full). A perfect, slim white one you can wear without a tie (meaning it doesn’t have to do up around your neck). A white shirt that does do up around your neck. A blue button down (checks or plain) that you can wear with a tie but also more casually with jeans. Finally a couple casual button downs with patterns (plaid etc.) that might be a little bit hipster/a little bit country. Whichever your fancy. Men also seem to love a black button down but I find with those you either end up looking like everyone else or like the waiter or bartender, so you make that call. A button down shirt and jeans is a nice way to “dress up” without actually dressing up. It’s a pulled together look with minimal effort on your part. Add a blazer, you’re practically semi formal.

This is a big guy, but he sure looks slick in a slim fitted suit.sunnydaystarrynight.com

Speaking of blazers. You really should have a GREAT FITTING BLACK SUIT. It should fit like it was made for you and, if you buy correctly it should make you feel like a million bucks. A great black suit can double as a tux. It can be used as separates. It can take you from a job interview to a wedding to a bar. Tie or no tie, pants and jacket as stand alones, a tailored black suit is a wardrobe staple.*** And once you’ve learned to like suits, you can add as many as you choose. Nowadays you can even wear the right suit with t-shirts. It’s really a men’s wardrobe no-brainer.

4+ TIES. A dress tie with a sheen and no pattern in cream, bronze, black, or silver (just something classic that pops against a white shirt) plus 3 other ties of various subtle patterns. Once you start wearing ties you can branch out but I’d advise always aiming for classic and simple over busy and/or funny. Please no characters (unless you’re being ironic and you’re in on the joke) and use wimsy sparingly. Your Dad once totally rocked a turquoise floral tie, but it was for a very specific occasion (a Southern wedding) and definitely not an every day kind of thing.

WORK OUT WEAR. I’m not saying you need to be a walking billboard for Under Armour, just don’t cruise around in your sh*^test clothes and call them gym clothes. Once again, as soon as those pits go yellow, pitch it.

PROPER OUTERWEAR. A LIGHT JACKET like an army coat, or something casual, that you can swing on if it’s chilly but weighs very little and can be jammed into a bag (or ball) without fear of ruin. A wool (or if you can afford it cashmere) 3/4 CAR COAT that will keep you warm but looks slick. Your Dad currently has two of these on rotation, a camel one we had tailored (see ***) with a bit more room to go over a suit jacket, and a navy one that fits like a glove and looks amazing over a button down or T-shirt. They both look (and more importantly, make him feel) amazing. I’d also suggest a HEAVIER WEIGHT JACKET like leather. Your Dad’s worn a broken in brown LEATHER JACKET for years. It was a heafty investment at the time but, if anything, it keeps getting better with age. This year he also invested in a black one that’s more moto and less aviator. He loves that one too but it’s the brown one that gets the most play. A leather jacket can be a man’s best friend. It’s like cool sunglasses ****, able to elevate the most basic of looks to stylish extremely fast.

SHOES. Shoes are a big deal in our house. Not just because your Dad has 2 different size feet and we have to buy 2 of everything, but because shoes say a lot about a person. Men’s clothing is rather basic by nature so shoes can become an large part of your outfit. ***** The shoes I’d recommend would be: COOL SNEAKS – non-workout rubber soled shoes you can rock with jeans or shorts. RUNNERS – workout or sports shoes with excellent support for keeping in shape. COOL BOOTS – it doesn’t matter if they’re full length or mid calf as long as they fit your proportions and make you feel awesome. The right boots should, both metaphoically and figuratively, make you stand a little taller. Your Dad loves boots – Frys, lace up military, smooth side zip boots – they all work. He has one pair he currently doubles as dress shoes. Even cowboy boots rock. Whatever your style turns out to be the right boot can bring it home. Worn in is great as long as there’s no duck tape or flapping soles. DRESS SHOES. Yep. You need them. Most of the time you can probably get away with a dress boot, or lately a cool sneak (a look I’m not personally down with but is definitely popular), but there will be some occasions that call for a real dress shoe and you may as well own a pair you like. Look for ones that are slim to the foot without being pointy or skinny. A brogue or a stylish oxford can look fantastic. Get something that doesn’t look like you just went with the cheapest lace up to get it over with. Take the time to look around. Find something you can actually get behind. Unlike boots however, these ones you must keep in shape with polish and care. No matter how casual our society has become, a scuffed dress shoes still speaks volumes about it’s wearer.

Nice, seasonal clothing from a lovely inexpensive label.hm.com

SEASONAL CLOTHES – Linen pants and a linen shirt are a great summer alternative to jeans and a button down and should fit a little looser to account for the heat. Flip flops are preferable to sandles or crocs on men for, what I hope are, obvious reasons. A couple pairs of loose casual shorts and maybe even a tailored pair are great for summer and get yourself a swim suit that fits and flatters as well as a rash guard to protect you from the sun. Avoid gigantic floppy board shorts that could fit 3 people. For the winter I’d say find a good beanie, well made (warm) leather or wool gloves and a cool scarf. Everything else in your wardrobe can be used almost year round.

PROPER GITCH. Whether you’re a boxer or a boxerbrief man (which, by the way, is what the 6 year old version of you prefers), until you’ve had all my future grandchildren you should stay away from breifs. Studies show they aren’t so great for your boys and honestly, they’re a bit showy. Also, though I imagine you might go through a funny underwear phase at some point in your life, stick with plain colors – black, grey, even red is fine. White has a tendancy to look crappy (pun almost intended) and crazy pickles, smiley faces and paisley are a bit much. AGAIN, as soon as they start looking ragged, lose em! Are we seeing a pattern here?

Henley, Pea Coat, Good jeans, cool boots.

Remember, not everything has to cost a million dollars. Sure, it would be lovely to always shop at John Vervatoss or Tom Ford but there are great things at all price points. Check out the H&M of your day. Right now Express sells really nice men’s suits and you can find great fitted button down at Banana Republic or amazing quality slim T-shirt at the GAP. Check the quality of the fabric and if it passes the test, the only issue becomes how it looks on you. If it looks and feels good, it is good. It doesn’t need a $200 price tag to prove it.

If you’re going to spend money on anything start with the shoes. Superior shoes make a huge difference to the quality of your day…and your back. Then look to a proper fitted white button down. Your Dad had a Helmut Lang one he wore into the ground. No shirt has ever looked better. Finally look to the leather jacket. Those are good places to start with your money. After that I’d say jeans and suit. If you’re in shape you don’t need to spent $150 to make a T-shirt look good. It’ll look good by proxy.

Even super casual can feel pulled together. Thanks vogue men.

So, that’s that. Yes, you’ll wear baseball caps (forwards AND backwards – sorry Dad). Yes, you’ll have some questionable fashion choices over time (I’m looking at you one shoulder-ed overalls) but for the most part you want your clothes to accentuate, rather than distract from, who you are. You want to look polished, or at least, strategically casual. You want to be taken seriously so you have to appear like someone worth listening to. As comfortable as Addidas slip ons might be, no one ever took advice from anyone wearing them. You want to look in the mirror and feel good. You want your fashion choices to tell the world you respect yourself enough to care. That you’re someone worth respecting.

I’ll love you no matter what you wear but what you wear is a choice.

Choose who you want to be.

xoxo Mom

*Cavat: If you turn out to be a rockstar or professional skateboarder and your entire wardrobe consists of leather pants or baggy shorts you can skip this letter but, for the sake of argument, let’s press on.

** Acknowledge that no matter how much you love something “the time comes” for almost everything in your wardrobe. That’s you shredded jeans with no ass.

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*** Your clothes should never bag or bulge. They should fit your body as if they were made for it. If something you own is good but not great or, you love something but wish it fit better, never underestimate the power of a professional tailor. A good tailor can make anything – from a dress shirt or a coat to a suit and a pair of jeans – look like a million bucks for a minimal fee.

****The right sunglasses are key. Start with classic styles that won’t break the bank like Ray Bans. You can’t go wrong with classic American cool. As your tastes and budget expand you can look at lines like Persol but you can’t go wrong with an old school Ray Ban.

Dressy shirt, nice watch, rope bracelets. Stylish can come in many different forms.meandmybentley.tumblr.com

***** Men can rock a cool necklace (leather, sometimes metal, I’m not much for gold), the occasional ring (I personally like a simple wedding band, but there’s no hard and fast rule) and the right bracelet – rope, copper, leather (please no diamonds) but for the most part, mens’s accessories are pretty limited. Watches are a good place to start -the right ones never go out of style and can ultimately be passed down. Cufflinks are nice if you live that sort of a lifestyle. Tie clips are currently popular with the dialed-in hipster but not all men can pull off the skinny ties that go with it, and of course, hats which, I’m thrilled to say, have come back in style. Beenies are obvious but fedoras and their ilk are also incredibly popular these days and worn properly can really add to a man’s personal style.

When all else fails you can always look to David Beckam … or the David Beckham of your day. That man has a good time getting dressed. fashionbeans.com

I’m a big believer in saying what you mean and meaning what you say. I think semantics matter. I believe the words you choose are important and how you feel deserves to be heard. That being said, I am also a big believer in holding your tongue. Every thought in your head does not require a voice. You shouldn’t speak just to hear your opinions echoed back and your thoughts should not run people over. I touched on the concepts of speaking up for yourself in When Polite Becomes a Problem and, as always, I believe everything we do, including speaking our minds, should be done with Manners and civility, but I wanted to take a moment to emphasize how important I believe it is to be candid with your thoughts.

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We have a fair number of friends and family who swallow their feelings. People who won’t acknowledge how they feel despite how obvious those feelings are to everyone around them. People who bottle their emotions and lie to themselves (and others) about what’s really going on. I’ve personally never been able to do that. That’s not to say I’m some highly evolved emotional genius who knows how things should be, but rather that I’ve always been one to wear my heart on my sleeve and my feelings on my face. Over time, I found it was just simpler to put a voice to my feelings rather than pretend otherwise. I wasn’t fooling anyone anyway.

blogher.com

Writing this blog, there have been times when I’ve been accused of “airing my dirty laundry”, of being “too candid”,“too honest” or voicing only MY “opinion“. I’ve had phone calls and emails from people who feel mischaracterized or uncomfortable with the truth I’ve put out in the world and I always feel terrible when this happens. I don’t believe my honesty is wrong, I’m just sorry my observation of the facts has upset anyone. As a result, I’ve spent a fair amount of time talking these situations through and, as uncomfortable as those conversations can be, I think everyone involved (myself included) comes out far better than when the issue was simply tucked away. I’m aware my thoughts and writings are my take on the world, but I try exceptionally hard to be fair and honest in my personal interactions. I do my best to avoid judgement and at the end of the day, I am most critical of myself. That being said, I believe in hitting issues straight on. I’m not one to beat around the bush. I think dirty laundry deserves tobe aired. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away, it just allows it to pile up and permeate your life. Taking things out and cleaning them up is the only way to stop them from festering. It might not be the most pleasant experience but it’s necessary if you want to live an unburdened life.

magerempowerment.com

Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Deny. Deny. Deny. Stiff upper lip stuff doesn’t work long term. It only serves to mask problems that end up rising up when you least expect them. I don’t advocate going through life telling everyone what you feel at every moment. That would be unnecessary social suicide and as much as I believe in owning your truth, I remain a proponent of “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all”. I do, however, feel that biting our tongue to the detriment of yourself, or someone you love, is not helpful. Keeping criticism at bay is a safe bet, but observations and honest truths, even if you know them to be subjective, are essential to our personal self worth and the integrity of our relationships.

fergusonvalues.com

There are ways to spare people’s feelings. To find something kind to say that is true without being insincere. But only when we acknowledge the truth of our situation can things begin to change. What’s the worst that can happen by being honest with your feelings? Someone gets upset? The situation becomes awkward? That’s tolerable. You can live through that. What’s unacceptable to me is fake, insincere relationships with people who are close to you. Working though something, no matter how uncomfortable, carries with it the possibility of resolution, growth and improvement. Holding on to resentment only breeds contempt.

Speaking your mind, standing up for yourself, telling people how you feel (in an appropriate way) is an essential life skill. The world is full of people afraid to rock the boat. You can’t solve issues that way and you’ll never be truly happy if you’re not truly yourself. Stamping down your feelings will ultimately only make you feel bitter and misunderstood. That’s no way to go through life.

wordsoverpixels.com

Having the courage to tell someone you’re upset or uncomfortable should be done just as confidently as letting someone know you appreciate and respect them. We should approach the good and bad with the same level of candor. Without honesty, we’re just acting like ourselves, not being ourselves. Every painful conversation I’ve ever had – be it with my parents, your Dad, a friend, a colleague – has ultimately ended in a positive result. Even if it makes you feel twitchy or you don’t end up with the resolution you’d hoped for – you break up, end up leaving a job or losing a friend – at least you can look in the mirror and know you did everything you could to make it right. You respected yourself and your feelings enough to let them be heard. People who bottle their emotions might seem to coast along without drama, but lack of conflict doesn’t mean you’re not conflicted and being “ok” is not the same as being happy.

Speak up for yourself. Don’t let anyone take your voice from you. Be a kind but not a weak person. What you think, what you want, what you feel, matters. Choose to be an active part of your own happiness. Ask for what you want. Stand up for what you believe in. Choose your words carefully but say what you mean. It may be socially acceptable to suppress your feelings to avoid making waves, but without waves there is no movement, and I don’t want you stuck in a life going nowhere.

Not so long ago you asked us the difference was between a thief and a robber. Your Dad and I both started answering before we simultaneously realized we didn’t know the answer. It’s fun when your children start teaching you things. Even if it’s by simply pointing out there’s more to learn. As it turns out, the difference is this:

Thief: one that steals especially stealthily or secretly
Robber: one who takes money or property from (a person or a place) illegally by using force, violence, or threats

So, one uses force and the other stealth. It goes without saying we’d all rather be theif-ed than robbed but honestly either kinda sucks. We discovered that recently when all our luggage was stolen out of the car we’d secretly packed to surprise you with a trip to Disneyland.*

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When bad things happen, especially after getting sick, I often feel like…Did I break a mirror at some point and not notice? Recently it feels more like…Did I break a mirror while walking under a ladder kicking a black cat? This is ridiculous. Was I a hideous person in a past life? Am I being punished for something? As far as I know I’m good, I have no memory of being otherwise, and yet when life rises up and slaps me in the face I think, what is this all about?

Even with those kind of thoughts, which I understand are a bit ridiculous and cause your father to roll his eyes, I recognize our theft could have been much worse. We had only packed for two days (three, as I tend to overpack) and all our electronics and toiletries were still in the house along with the important un-replaceables, like your beloved bluies and stuffed animals. We lost a bunch of clothes for sure, shoes and other sundries that all can eventually be replaced, but the thought of trying to re-cobble together my makeup or face creams, your Dad’s contacts, or having to replace all of our i-everythings, would have been a complete nightmare.

I no longer own any of the clothes I’m wearing in this picture.

Aside from one momentary spazz attack (5 seconds max) when I realized our stolen day bag included my driver’s license and large number of my medications, I was pretty calm about the whole thing. Now “pretty calm” may sound unimpressive, but for someone like me who’s prone to dramatic, emotional outbursts, it’s actually saying a lot. When I called to tell my parents, Granddad was astounded I wasn’t hysterical. I think he thought I’d been body snatched, but really, freaking out was a useless endeavor. Yes, being robbed is rotten. Sure, it’s inconvenient. It definitely made me wildly angry, but having a breakdown about it wasn’t going to fix anything. I needed to handle the situation and dissolving into a pile of mush wasn’t going to get my credit card cancelled or our police report filled out.

The most frustrating thing, aside from losing my beloved grey skinny jeans and favorite black boots, is how much of your time is stolen when your things are stolen. On top of taking our stuff, this unknown skeeve has taken hours, probably days, of my time sorting out his mess. It took us three hours of initial callings to police, banks, and insurance companies and two more filling out all the necessary paperwork. I still have to go to the DMV to get a new license, the bank to get a new bank card, the Ford Dealership to replace my Navigation card and to figure out how someone could have acquired access to our locked car in the first place. Letters have to be written to my health insurance company and on-line pharmacy to start the process of reissuing my medication and they’ll be a huge deductible to pay before we can even start replacing what was lost. Factor in the time I will spend on craigslist inanely trying to crack the case myself and you get the picture.

DON’T TAKE OUR STUFF!!!

Having things stolen makes you angry. You feel violated. You ask yourself who would do such a thing? I didn’t freak out in the moment but, after the fact, I felt furious. Who breaks into someone’s car and takes suitcases and backpacks not even knowing what’s in them? You don’t need anything specifically, you’re just hoping there’s something in there you want. Who combs through someone’s possessions cherry picking favorites like they’re shopping in a store? Sunglasses? Check. Car seat? Nah. What kind of person feels justified emptying someone’s car into their own? Our thieves had to have brought a vehicle because there was just too much stuff to have carried away without one. An entire bag of coffee table books and novels? Really? You need that? They didn’t even have the time to use my bank card or ID between when the car was loaded at 1:30am and when we found it emptied 5 hours later. Will they try and sell our clothes? They’re not worth much used and yet they’ll cost us at least a couple thousand to replace. What’s the point of it all, other than to increase our sense of distrust and to make security companies more money? It all seems so senseless.

We made it!

Driving to Disney that afternoon (because we were still going damn it!) your Dad and I talked ad nausum about how livid we felt being taken advantage of that way. We discussed how we couldn’t even fathom how hysterical and vengeful we’d feel if it was a person and not stuff that had been taken or violated. In those hours following the robbery we really understood how people find themselves at a place where they feel a visceral need for retribution. A dark place of fury and vengeance. We lost jeans and boots, sweaters and jackets. How do people lose people and ever get past it? And if they do find out who it was, how do they possibly live with that? I imagined how I might behave if I was confronted with our thief and it was alarming. Your Dad wants to put trackers in all our luggage now. I want to chip the both of you for safety.

New matching suits just in time for their night swim!

As horrible and heartbreaking as the whole situation was, our family will come through it virtually unscathed. Terrible things happen to people every day and, in the grand scheme of things, this theft is merely a blip. An expensive, annoying, waste of time blip, but a nothing all the same. Things can be replaced. People can not. We can choose to be mired down by the bad things that happen to us or we can choose to move on. I’m very glad we didn’t let the bad guys ruin our plans. Life goes on. Their are still lots of good people in the world and we chosen to try and focus on that. The lovely folks at Quicksilver in Downtown Disney started that ball rolling by giving Daddy and you the (completely made up) “you had your luggage stolen discount” on your new bathing suits. It was a small thing but it really made us smile. Customers for life!

S*^@ happens and you have to work to not let it change you. Don’t get me wrong, if I saw the SOB that took our stuff I’d be pretty fired up, but I’m not going to waste any more time than I already have to devoted to his actions. Karma, as they say, is a bitch and if it turns out it’s not me she’s after, I hope she takes a real crack at him.

I love you baby.

xo Mom

* For the record this is the third time in two years our car has been broken into in our driveway.

After my last post I was determined to say something funny and light. I’ve become aware that when I write about not feeling well it makes people (especially those closest to me) slightly melancholy and I was hoping to give my nearest and dearest a bit of a break as the year begins anew. Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is, my health leading up to the holidays was a real struggle so, despite my best intentions for humor, I think the sincerest post I can commit to is what I learned over the past month while I was so sick. For those of you who find these types of posts upsetting, stick with me, I am infinitely better now and in many ways I would say my recent weakness has only changed me for the better.

———

Dear Loch,

When you were five, I planned a trip to the mountains for Thanksgiving that went completely awry. Unable to breathe on my own we spent 12 hours in our rented condo before abandoning our trip to come back down the mountain. Unfortunately, my declining health didn’t stop at sea level and for the next three weeks I struggled to breathe without the help of oxygen and complete even the most minimal of tasks on my own. Not since I was first diagnosed was my life uprooted in such a tangible way, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt so afraid and angry. Your Dad did everything he could, staying home from work, shuffling me from doctor to doctor, taking care of all the things I usually handle. But, he is only one man and he can’t be everywhere at once or miss work indefinitely. We needed help.

When people discover I’m sick, they often say things like, “Well, if there’s every anything I can do…”. It’s a lovely sentiment and I sincerely appreciate it but my standard response is always something like, “Thank you. That’s really kind. Hopefully I’ll never need to take you up on that offer.” If I’m being honest though, the truth of the matter is, I don’t want anyone’s help. Up until recently I found the whole idea of taking someone’s help rather distasteful. I’m a busy and efficient A-type person and I pride myself on my ability to get s*#@ done. It’s part of my self worth. To accept help would mean I needed help, which, on some level, diminishes me. It makes me feel needy and broken. Though offers came from genuine, altruistic places, the thought of taking people up on them made me feel like a failure as well as shining a big, glaring light on the one thing I was trying hardest to ignore: the fact that I was sick.

I don’t want to be sick so, I pretend I’m not. I realize it’s a little ostrich-y but I try incredibly hard to keep life as close to what it was before my diagnosis as possible. I fight reality tooth and nail in a wayward attempt to hold on to my pre-illness identity. It’s incredibly important to me. So, while I may smile and agree to the idea of taking help if need be, internally I feel like…Nope, I got this. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.

Up until recently only the very closest people in my life have seen the toll my illness takes on me. Not even my mother knows the extent of the strain. Your Dad is the only witness to my weakest of moments, my outbursts and rages, most of which seem to come in the middle of the night. It has always been important to me that I appear normal to the outside world. Better than normal. Great. Pulled together. Highly functioning. I don’t want to be judged or liked, written off or underestimated, based on my illness. I want people to see me, not the potential ticking clock.

We’ve had people reach out to us in the past. The kindness and generosity of some of our friends has truly humbled me. But what happened in the weeks leading up to Christmas struck me on a completely different level. I was so sick, so weak, so disturbingly incapable of taking care of myself I had to let go. I had to stop holding so tight to the wishes of my ego and take the help being offered to us with grace. I had to accept that I needed assistance on the most basic of levels – help driving my child to school and taking care of him after, help making meals, help going to the flippin’ grocery store. I couldn’t do anything on my own and for as many times as I’ve said “No Thank you” over the past years, I said “Thank you” over the past weeks, and it was a completely humbling experience.

To benevolently offer to help someone without thought for yourself and frankly, at an inconvenience to you, is practically unheard of these days. Our closest friends in Los Angeles rallied around us. They joined something called “Meal Train” which allowed them to sign up for duties on a shared calendar and communicate via email. They kindly left me out of the loop because it quickly became obvious that even the simplest of questions like, “How do you feel about chicken for Thursday night?” had me gut reacting with statements like, “Don’t worry about it. Please don’t anything. I’m ok.” So, they just stopped asking me. The whole experience was unbelievable. My friend’s cleaning lady showed up at my house. Groceries were on my back door. Meals were in my fridge. My child was happy and busy with playdates and dinners. These wonderful people took over the reigns of my life so I could rest and get better. I was beyond touched and grateful but I honestly struggled with how to properly respond. I had no point of reference for this type of support, this level of kindness.

Truthfully, I panicked. What if this was my new life? What if these amazing people, who were being so kind now, ultimately saw me as a burden? I couldn’t possibly or sufficiently thank them enough. I felt as if I would “owe” everyone for life and never be able to deliver. I worried my needs upset the balance of our relationship. I felt “less than” myself, as if I was no longer a peer or an equal but someone beneath them. A charity case rather than a friend and as I started to feel better, I wanted to jump right back into my life. I wanted to stop the help machine. I wanted to go back to normal but I was convinced not to. With all the understanding they could muster, your Dad and Granny told me slipping right back into my life full speed was going to be a mistake. That my friends were helping in good faith and I should accept it with the same respect in which it was intended. They believed the best thing I could do for everyone who was going so far out of their way to help was to get well – really,truly well. Taking care of my family on my own would come. My friends weren’t doing so much just so I could get sick again. They weren’t planning to lord their compassion over me. They weren’t looking for endless, groveling thanks. They were supporting me because they liked me and wanted to see me well. As Sean said, “If it was one of them, wouldn’t you do the same?”

thegreeeneyedladyblog.com

The answer was a resounding yes. Yes, of course I would. I wouldn’t help someone to make them feel weak or small or to get kudos or presents. I would lend a hand because I could and I would do it without question. I had to learn to take help the same way.

Once I stopped fighting it was astonishing how the experience opened up my heart. It was extraordinary to be the recipient of such an outpouring of love. To accept that was ok to need people. To embrace the fact I wasn’t able to do it all and allow so many people come together to assist us. The experience humbled me in a way I could never have expected. Instead of making me feel weaker I felt stronger. I came out of the situation feeling I could (and should) do more to help others. People being kind and gracious to me inspired me to be kind and gracious to others. I suppose that’s why the concept of “paying it forward” works. If someone is good to you, it incites you to be good to others. The truth of the matter is, NONE of us can do it all on our own, and when we truly accept and embrace that, the world has the potential to become a much better place.

Look around in your life baby. Offer to help those who might need it and graciously accept relief when it’s offered to you. Help is not just for people who are sick, it’s for anyone that could use a little lift or love. It’s not lost on me that this entire experience happened at the time of year when we’re supposed to be looking out for our fellow man. The period of time when goodness and compassion come back in style. “So this is Christmas, and what have you done….”

My friends didn’t help me because they wanted to feel they’d done charity before the holidays. They helped me because they thought I needed them, and I let them because they were right. The same circumstances could have occurred in April or July and I believe they would have done exactly the same thing. It’s just that with the overlapping of this time of year I feel just a bit more encouraged for the state of the world. That for all the selfish, me first behavior we see every day, there are still people are innately good, who look out for one another, who treat others as they would be treated, and that, my love, gives me hope.

Look out for others Loch, and let others look out for you. In a world that’s become so increasingly insular, it’s important we realize how very much we are all still connected.

Recently the older brother of one of your friends was experiencing some bullying at school. It’s a hard thing to avoid, even in a school as small as yours, where the parents all know each other and the kids have been taught the virtues of kindness and compassion from kindergarden. Perhaps it’s just part of being a kid, something to try on and see how it fits. It made me think of comedian Louis CK’s recent point about not buying cell phones for his daughters. He felt the technology made it all too easy to disconnect from the truth of the real world. If you are cruel to someone in person, you witness first hand how they feel and, how making them feel that way effects you. For the most part it’s not a great feeling for either person. But, when you do it online, silently typing cruel things into a smart phone and pressing send, there is no such bounce back. No moment where you see how your behavior has affected another and, therefore, much less self realization for the bully. Without the emotional fallout to witness, mean for the sake of mean might feel pretty good.

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Sidebar: Cyber bullying is a new world for me. We didn’t have smart phones and the internet when I was young and from everything from bullying to dating, I think my generation dodged a big bullet. You, on the other hand have a whole new sphere of ways to hurt one another and people are using it with gusto. You have to be hyper conscious about what you post, who you tag, what you say and what you forward. You shouldn’t share your password with anyone (except your parents) and you have to think, almost more so than you would when you speak, how something you say might be perceived. Those words are never going away. Anything you post will ALWAYS be out there. Look, it’s easy to be mean but it’s base. It’s not clever or charming and it won’t win you friends or impress anyone worth impressing. It’s a cheap, shallow way to connect with people and you have to work every day of your life to rise above it.

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Anyway, this boy at your school was experiencing a lot of taunting. He’d even received threats of bodily harm and as a result had engaged in the occasional physical tussle. By the time I was talking with him he was understandably worn out and angry. The thing is he’s not alone. The girls in your class were recently sat down and talked to about kindness and fair behavior. It seemed there had already been some issues of bullying amongst them (sadly not surprising for girls) and the teachers were looking to nip it in the bud. I’d like to say I’m shocked. Bullying at 5 and 6?! That’s outrageous!! But I’m not. I was bullied mercilessly from age 7 through 9, again at camp from 10-12, the majority of my 8th grade year and then again in the 12th grade.

Bullying happens all the time, to all kinds of people, and it can be at any stage of your life. You can be bullied by your boss, your girlfriend, a frenemy, a colleague. Bullying is everywhere and, at some point in your life, you will have to deal with it. At the end of the day bullying is a misuse of power, a behavior that belongs in the arsenal of the weak. The bully might appear to be dominant but it’s a weak character that chooses this behavior. A truly confident person has no need to belittle or destroy. Only the small have to stand on others in order to feel big.

Looking at the size of you I don’t think people will target you for physical bullying. But, mentally, you are kind and sweet and sensitive and that’s probably going to cause you some issues. I wouldn’t want you to be different. I just think we need to be aware of what being the “good guy” sometimes entails. Your Dad was bullied for being a red head but he was also picked on for being kind to the special needs girl at his school. You can’t win, you just have to deal. Recently you were in tears when a 2nd grader, who’s half your size by the way, was mean to you. Part of me wanted to tell you to punt that twerp across the campus but, even in the heat of the moment, I knew that was terrible advice. Yes, you could exert your size for dominance but that’s no way to handle your problems and frankly, I don’t want you to think that way. I don’t want you physically, or metaphorically, throwing your weight around. I think the best way to use physicality to our advantage is by simply owning our space without apology, and I believe that’s possible whether you’re big or small. Emmenating a grounded sense of self – both physically and mentally – will make you less of a target.

I wish I could say this applied to all bullies, but it doesn’t. Self worth and confidence have a way of attracting a different type of aggressor, the kind that would rather break your confidence mentally than your bones physically. If you find yourself on the receiving end of this type of action – because you sure as hell better not be on the delivery end – all I can say is hold on. Be grounded in your sense of self and wait it out. It’s a tremendous acting exercise. You can feel devastated and destroyed inside. You can want to cry, give up or lash out, but if you want it to stop you have to appear strong in public. Come home and unload but don’t allow “them” the satisfaction of seeing you hurt. I promise the situation will eventually pass but you want to feel confident that, as far as anybody knows, you handled it with nothing but strength and pride.

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I know from personal experience how hard this kind of bullying can be to handle. How painful it is. How sometimes you’d just prefer to be punched in the face then deal with one more day of someone trying to break you. I know what a toll it takes on your confidence but you have to keep reminding yourself THE BULLIES CAN’T WIN. You have to be stronger than them. No one should make choices for you. No one is allowed to tell you how to feel about yourself or dictate your actions. They can’t defeat you unless you let them, and lest you think you’re all alone you’re not. Bullies have been around forever and personally, I believe life has a way of catching up with them. Whether your bully ends up with no real friends or honest relationships, whether they’re unable to love fully or truly be happy, weak minded, small, petty people pay for it in the end. I know that’s not much to hold on to when you’re in the thick of it, but knowing that fact somewhere in the back of your head might allow you to suck it up for just one more day. There are too many kids who felt they’d rather end it than live with the pain of the bullying anymore. This. Should. Not. Be. We can’t allow ourselves to live in the world the bully creates. We must try with all we have to rise above. Life is too wonderful and precious to forfeit to exhaustion.

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It’s possible as a strong willed, popular guy you’re not going to have to deal with this s*^@, but it’s unlikely. The weak are the frequent victims but the strong are repeatedly targeted for threatening the status quo. Look at Obama. That man’s been bullied for the past 6 years and he’s the leader of the free world. No one is immune and you can’t stop it. All you can do is be strong enough of character to remain the best version of yourself without apology. And if it’s not you who’s being bullied? Is it ok to turn a blind eye lest risk having the bully turn on you? No. It’s not. I lost my entire group of “friends” for standing up for someone else but, even knowing how that played out, I wouldn’t change giving a voice to someone who didn’t. The only thing I should have done differently was go to a teacher first rather than publicly engaging the tormenter head on. It wasn’t the smartest move. But, hindsight’s 20/20 right? The bottom line is you can’t call yourself a good person if you’re able to sit idly by while someone else is getting hurt. You need to know what behavior is appropriate and stick to it no matter what anyone else is doing.

I don’t envy you this stage in your life. It can be tough but, it can also be liberating. It’s the time when you start realizing what you’re made of, who you are, and building the sense of pride and self worth that can last a lifetime. You are a good person Loch. You’re kind and noble and loving. Have enough faith in yourself to rise above the noise. Don’t let anybody change the spectacular person you are becoming.

You wrote a song recently. Your Dad was away for the weekend and we had his car so you were right beside me when you started singing. The song went like this:

I love my Mom. I love my Mom. I love my Mom. But I love my Dad more.

I was in the middle of saying, “Oh, honey I love this song…” when that last line came and I felt as if I’d been doused in water.

You’d think I’d be used to it by now. I know you love me. You need me for chats and fears and snuggles and hurts but, for the last six months I’ve played second fiddle to anything your Dad. I get it. Your Dad works a lot. He’s busy. You don’t get to spend as much time with him, so your time together is special. Combine that with the fact that he’s 100% yours when he is around – full of exciting role playing games, outdoor adventures and full fledged wrestling matches – and your Dad’s a God. He doesn’t drag you around doing errands. He defeats giant underground worms, builds forts that take up entire rooms and fashions elaborate creations out of legos. Your Dad’s the man. I’m just the Mom.

In contrast to the rare and special times the two of you spend together, you see me every single day. Intellectually I can comprehend why you’re sick of me. I’m old news. It’s natural to take the thing you’re most confident in for granted. I suppose I should take it as a sign I’ve done something right. But, it’s hard not to feel under appreciated and, if I’m being honest, hurt.

Your Dad and I have different strengths. He’s able to meet your childhood energy and I’m not. He’s available for brief stints and I’m around all the time. He does the fun stuff, I do the necessary stuff and we’re both well suited to our jobs. When it comes right down to it, he’s dessert and I’m the vegetable, and we all know how kids feel about their vegetables. You don’t care that I spent two years inundated with essays and applications to get you in to just the right school. It doesn’t register with you that I buy all the presents or ensure the house never runs out of food or toilet paper. You’re not interested in who makes your bed or buys your clothes. You’re aware that people like you but not how much of that is due to the fact that we’ve worked so hard together on your manners and attitude. Your Daddy is the shining star and I have bad breath in the morning. You once told me, “Daddy is the King. I’m the Prince, and you’re the maid.” I asked you to leave my room.

I’m a bit of a background player in your life these days.

Being taken for granted, marginalized or discredited hurts no matter who does it. I know I’m the adult. I realize I should have the capacity to rise above my sore feelings. For goodness sakes you’re five and I’m the one who needs to grow up! But when you tell me after a three hour playdate at a friend’s house it would’ve been more fun if I wasn’t there, or I ask if you had a good time at the Aquarium and you tell me it would have been better if I was Daddy, I want to cry. I also want to scream, “You know what kid? I had other things to do today too you know! It would have been better for me if Daddy was there too!” Of course I’m happy doing things with you. I love spending time together. I know you’re starting Kindergarden is the beginning of the end of our extended one-on-one relationship, and I’m thrilled I was able to be there for so much of it, but I was a fully realized person before you were born and as much as I’m honored to have played such a big part in your childhood, I put a lot of myself on hold to do it, and your complete dismissal of my contribution makes me sad.

I’m sensitive. You say hurtful things and I get hurt. My face gets screwed up. I look at you and say, “that was mean” or “Loch, how d’you think your saying that makes me feel?” I suppose it’s better you learn from me how much words can hurt rather than discovering it after you say something thoughtless to a friend, but it doesn’t make it feel any better. You’ve actually taken to apologizing lately without any prompting. It’s as if you’ve learned to recognize from my reactive body language that you’ve done something unkind. This summer when we were walking around Disney you said, “I like you this much (indicating a bench mark with your hand) and I like Daddy this much (indicating a higher mark). Sometimes you’re here (meeting Dad’s high level) but most of the time you’re here (back to my original lower position)”. You followed that comment directly with a quick “Sorry Mommy. Sorry, sorry. I love you both the same!” but I got your message. At this point I’ve learned to bite my tongue and say something like “I understand Loch. Your Dad is very special and you love him very much”, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do it with a big sigh in my heart.

The reality is you appreciate things more when you don’t have them all the time (that, and your Dad rocks) but it’s hard for me to think of the future without worrying if I’ll be around or not, and when you say things like you wish you wasn’t here, it breaks my heart. Sometimes all I can hear when you say that sort of things is, “Well, you might get your wish…” and that scares me. As I said when I started this whole process, I want to be around as long as I can and I hope you always feel confident enough to take my presence for granted, but it’s something I can’t guarantee. Recently I wasn’t feeling very well and you were so mean to me. I couldn’t do anything right. It was as if you were punishing me for being sick. It made you mad. I’m sure what you were really feeling was nervous, but anger was your way of processing the fear.

I understand as annoying as this behavior is, it’s also very normal. I’m a grown woman and I know my parents would still love it if I called them more. I have to remind myself constantly to make sure I actively acknowledge how much I appreciate your Dad. It’s all too easy to take those we count on most and love the deepest for granted. I don’t take care of you for credit. It just stings to be discredited. But I’ll take that feeling any day over the alternative. I’d rather you not know what you have than be aware of what you’re missing.

So go ahead. Dole it out. I can take it. I know you love me and, no matter where life takes us, I hope you always know that I love you.